


I Don't Do Too Well On My Own

by Cy_Fi_TheAnswerIs42



Series: Autistic Thomas Jefferson [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autism, Autistic Character, Autistic Thomas Jefferson, Because now that I think of it this might be a partial shutdown, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, I'm pretty sure that's what it is, If I missed any tags just let me know, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, That's the thing where you feel disconnected from reality right?, We actually get to see more of this now, What's the difference between a shutdown and dissociation?, depression (mentioned), i'll tag it anyways, idk man, nonverbal, shutdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14548092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cy_Fi_TheAnswerIs42/pseuds/Cy_Fi_TheAnswerIs42
Summary: Do you ever just not feel real?





	I Don't Do Too Well On My Own

**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea how sad I am that I couldn't think of a good Hamilton lyric for the title.

Thomas stood outside the classroom, pulling earbuds out of his backpack. He had just finished with a test, one that he thought he was prepared for, but considering the number of questions he wasn’t even remotely sure he answered correctly, he wasn’t as ready as he thought. He put the earbuds in, pulling up one of his favorite playlists for the walk back to his dorm. Thomas started walking, his mind lost in his thoughts about the test. Considering how poorly he had probably done, at best he would have a C, which would bring his total grade down, which would then in turn affect his GPA. The problem was, no matter how much he thought about it, Thomas couldn’t bring himself to care. What was the point of it, it’s not like it really mattered that much, right? He tried to make himself care, tried to feel something about it, but he just felt…weird. Detached. Unreal.

He looked at his surroundings, realizing he was already halfway back to his dorm. He saw the trees, the buildings, a few other people, even felt the wind on his face, but it all seemed muted. Thomas tried focusing on the music, it was one of his favorite songs. He felt the vibrations in his ears, noticed the tempo and beats, if he focused enough he could recognize the words and process them, but it felt like something was missing, like it had all the parts to make it a song, but it was missing the life that made it music. No matter how much he focused on what was happening around him, he still felt detached from it all, so he let his mind drift.

Suddenly, Thomas was standing in front of the door to his dorm room. Huh, logically he knew he would have had to swipe his ID card to get in the building and take the elevator up to the 17th floor, but he didn’t remember any of it. Weird. He let himself in, noticing that James wasn’t there yet, and tossed his backpack to the floor before pulling on his favorite sweatshirt and collapsing on his bed. He stared up at the stupid popcorn ceiling of the dorm room. This was strange, to say the least. Sure, he didn’t always understand emotions and he had short depressive episodes every now and then, but he had never felt this numb before, like there was a barrier between him and the rest of the world. Thomas debated grabbing one of his stress balls or some slime-- maybe physically feeling something would help bring him out of his head?-- but ultimately decided against it. That would involve getting up, and at this point in time he had no desire to do that. He had his phone still, and his headphones were within reach. YouTube videos it was then.

Thomas opened his phone, saw James had texted him right before the test had started, and started writing back.

Jemmy: Text me when you’re out of class, alright? I know you have a test today so you’ll be out early, I can bring you some dinner?

Me: I’m back at the dorm.

It didn’t take James very long to start to reply, the three little dots showing up to indicate he was typing a message back.

Jemmy: Ok, do you want to meet me at the dining hall? I just got here and I can wait.

Thomas thought about it for a moment. Did he want to leave the dorm room?

Me: No.

Jemmy: Alright, do you want anything?

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows slightly, considering the question. He had had a snack right before the test, so logically he shouldn’t be hungry, right? Between that and it was still too early for dinner, only 5:15, he shouldn’t need food. But then there was also the consideration that he would need dinner eventually, and there wasn’t anything in the dorm room he could eat, which meant it was either have James bring him something now, or go out later. He had to make a decision, but his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, suppressing his synapses and making any level of thinking difficult.

Me: I don’t know.

Jemmy: Ok, how about this; I’ll bring you back some food and you can eat it whenever you want, alright?

Me: Ok, thanks.

He sighed, feeling faint traces of relief and guilt at the fact that James helped him out with that one. It wasn’t something he should have to do, after all, they were both adults in college so Thomas should be able to make simple decisions like if he wanted food or not, but sometimes it was still difficult. Add in that his brain seemed to have turned to molasses and it was nearly impossible. He opened the YouTube app on his phone, defaulting back to his original plan and tapping on the first video that popped up, not actually caring what it was.

All of a sudden, Thomas felt the bed shake slightly. He looked up to see James standing there, holding up a grocery bag of what must have been food. James must have kicked the bed to let him know he was there, but when did James get there? He couldn’t have been watching videos for that long, right? James’ mouth started to move, so Thomas took his earbuds out to hear what he was saying.

“…” James’ mouth moved, there was sound, but Thomas had no idea what he had just said. His eyebrows scrunched together and his tilted his head slightly, hoping James would get the cue to repeat himself.

“I said…you want…watch a…eat dinner?” James finished, starting to look a little concerned. Thomas just stared blankly back. He should be feeling frustrated, annoyed, confused, or just something, but instead, Thomas still felt numb. James sat down on the bed next to him, hand hovering over Thomas’, unsure. Thomas raised his hand slightly, just enough so their hands touched, a nonverbal cue that touch was ok at the moment. James took his hand, his thumb brushing gently over Thomas’ knuckles. Thomas closed his eyes, leaned over so his head rested on James’ shoulder, and focused on the grounding sensation.

“Thomas.” James started slowly so Thomas wouldn’t miss anything, his voice still soft. “What’s wrong?”

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, even if he was unsure of what to say, and found that he couldn’t get any words out, like there was something blocking the connection between his head and his mouth. His free hand rested at his throat for a moment before going to trace letters against James’ leg.

‘Don’t feel real’

“You’re real Thomas, just like me.” James said, taking Thomas’ hand and placing it on his chest. “See? You can feel my heartbeat, feel my chest rise and fall when I breath, feel the vibrations when I talk, I’m real. And if I’m real, then you’re real too. Try to feel your lungs swell when you take a breath, ok? Just try focusing on that.”

Thomas did that, still feeling James breathing and caressing his hand, and focused on the feeling in his chest when he breathed, feeling his chest expand and contract, imagining the air swirling around in his lungs, and felt himself start to come out his head a little, felt the fog start to clear just a little.

“See what I mean?” James whispered, turning his head slightly so their foreheads rested together.

“Keep talking.” Thomas mumbled, the few words he managed to get out slurring together.

“Ok TJ.” James said, chuckling slightly, no doubt relieved that Thomas said something even if it was barely coherant. “You’re going to enjoy this; so Hamilton and his little squad had the most idiotic idea ever today…”

**Author's Note:**

> Me, projecting onto a fictional character? Nah, never.  
> Also, sorry if this was absolute trash, sometimes finding the right words to describe some of this stuff is difficult to say the least. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
